


What  if...

by Violet_Amber_Vamps1



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:31:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Amber_Vamps1/pseuds/Violet_Amber_Vamps1
Summary: What if when Daniel was busy running away another vampire with revenge in mind against Armand offered toturn Daniel instead.Trigger warnings -- Continues meaning of violence, fear and injury and gore. Vampire on vampire off screen but hinted at violence.





	What  if...

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an ask I received on my daniel blog on tumblr - violeteyedvampiremolloy - 'What if another vampire offered to turn Daniel to piss Armand off?' - as it's not mentioned in canon I guess it counts as au/divergent verse - though Armand clearing where ever he settled with his mortal was definitely a thing he did.

Ironic I thought to myself, I’d been constantly inquiring over others to my devil. Asking Armand of other vampires, knowing he cleared out anywhere we settled of those younger and possibly a threat to me. Now one was directly near me, sitting at the next table I couldn’t stop clutching the amulet he’d given for my protection like a talisman. They weren’t as old as my secret lover, the finesse - the way they held themselves not quite as poised or otherworldly, the fangs they flashed in amusement at me were no doubt just as sharp and deadly. Holding the vial of my devils blood encased in stylised gold. ‘Snap it, break it and noone would dare harm you,’ Armand had assured. In the fluorescent light of the diner. As I eyed the other cautiously it seemed a poor defense. I’d run after a series of bitter arguments, all boiling down to the refusal of giving me immortality. Now I could end up at the sharp end of anothers teeth as dinner, I bet it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as when you took a precious few droplets. I wanted to hold onto my meagre mortality even more. Sipping my steaming coffee nervously, gaze darting to them now and again. 

Then they moved, sitting now opposite me. I stared past their eyes, a old wives tale perhaps but this one I doubted wanted snuggle rights anytime soon. 

“What can I do for you?” No reason to be rude, my mother raised me better. Mr manners didn’t really cover this though did it. Your rambling! Get a grip! Sweat forming on the back of my neck. A female vampire but I didn’t let myself take in her details. Rude I suppose, but I was only used to Armands beauty, anyone else was a pale comparison. Words of an addict..In all the ways I knew how. 

“Do you often monologue?” The vampire asked blandly outloud. I jumped a little. “Its rather endearing really. Perhaps that’s why your his pet, your wit. Though your quite handsome too. I can tell you’ve had his blood also,” eyes flitting down to the amulet I cupped in my palm. Smile twitching the corners of generously shaped mouth. “But not quite enough to pause all of the changes time will wreak upon your fine body.” The gaze travelling across my form as if I was for sale. I’d always been wiry, but now after too much alcohol, not enough sleep or food I was dangerously close to string beany. But despite my lack of glowing condition they could tell I’d been enlivened by the Armand vintage. 

“How can you tell? My bright eyes, my wit, sparkling personality?” Yep Molloy that’s it, antagonise a vampire. One that gives zero shits for you. Great for the tombstone epitaph ~here lies Daniel Molloy~ wise ass who interviewed a vampire, kissed one and liked it and finally fanged to death by a stranger. 

There was that old cockiness, papering over my nerves and cracks. Their presence in my mind was rough, abrasive like sand paper. Mouth sneered into a thin line, this one didn’t like the critique of their mind reading prowess.

“No you smell like him?” Matter of fact, did they know him then? Dangerous ground, they could be trying to win me over by association. 

“‘Eau du Armand: My devil’ - I’m sure to bask in it without fail.” Not a total lie as I did tend to wrap myself around him as often as I could, snuggling with dead things, he did smell amazing for a dead guy. “Though I’m guessing your talking about his blood.” Touching my mouth self consciously as if I still had some dripping from the crease of my lips or something.

“Naturally,” as if this ape needed to catch up, strictly I was homo sapien, vampires were sapien vampyre. “-though your reflexes are just a tad quicker than normal.” Lunging forward of which I emited a totally unmanly squeal, my back hitting the thankfully deeply padded booth seats back. “See very swift.”

Apparently it was perfectly natural after a sudden scare to offer violence to the scarer in the form of a slap or punch, and or swear profusely. Seeing as they could possibly break me in half like a toothpick I opted for the cursing reaction. 

“What the fuckerty do you want?!” my voice wavering a tad more than I’d like but you can’t have everything. If I was going to be drained I may as well go out in a growl not a whimper. Eyeing the door. 

“Such fresh language too. To make you an offer, what if I turned you - you get immortality and I get what I want.” 

“What do you want?” There kind of question you never ask the villain in the movies. So there was prized beef between my erstwhile lover/ potential sire, and this one. 

“To show Armand what it’s like to lose something he covets, he has quite the reputation. I’d hoped to take his fledgling away from him. But alas he hasn’t given in to that impulse as yet with you. I’m surprised. He cleansed the last place you settled, protecting his pet human. A friend of mine. Maybe toying with you is all the better for him. But as it is it’ll be poetic, to have me as your maker, not him. He’s so territorial I doubt he’ll be pleased. Call it mutually beneficial. Don’t you want to take control, show him your independence and bite.” 

Well fuck that and the high horse they rode in on, as tempting as my hind brain made it. I only wanted blood ties with Armand, blood to his blood. Noone else’s. “Thanks but no thanks.” A high pealing laugh that sounded so normal it was almost sad from their corner. Armands laugh caused me goosebumps, a smile could give me a semi - even before he touched me too. This one’s voice didn’t have the melodic tones, the hush of velvet smoothness. It was mundane, nothing special. Interestingly they weren’t speaking to me in my mind, wow maybe they couldn’t? Read in check, speak to via nope. Slapping payment for the food and coffee on the table. 

Those thoughts had my vampire visitor scowling, they were insulted. Oops don’t poke the blood sucker who hasn’t got the touchy feelies for you. They’re not likely to give me a love bite. Certainly not one I’d like. The primal side of me suddenly thought leaving here was a very good idea and I underrated just how handy having a stalker killing machine was in situations like that, this one may not be flashy but it didn’t take much finesse to break my neck or drain me dry. 

“Who says I’ll give you a choice, you either take my blood after I suck you dry or you die proper, ones more pleasing than the other. But I’ll just wrap your dead body up in a bow and leave it for him to find,“ shrugging and in full gloat mode, closing their eyes. Too confident so I did what any reasonable mortal would do, chuck my steaming coffee into their lap and high tailed it out. They wouldn’t be hurt by it just in need of a dry cleaners. 

The night was my second home now, but I felt very exposed and alone. Hadn’t made a escape plan from chip on shoulder vampires in this trip yet. My bad! Desperately I called Armands mobile number, swearing the whole time. Leaving a message, heartbeat in my mouth. Felt relieved hearing that overbearing buggers voicemail message I’d helped him record. But he was ‘my’ overbearing bugger! Realising belatedly that as much as I underestimated his powers he couldn’t get here in a blink of an eye. Fuck! Running, knowing I’d never out pace them but I had to try, it was in my DNA not to give up. *You’ll be dead either way too. He’ll exterminate you, like a roach. But slowly over time I’d imagine.* I’d run like a amateur straight into a dead ended alleyway. “He’ll be here any minute always a few steps behind.” 

Small flash backs to Louis’ rough bite to my throat, nothing like I’d later experienced with Armand. That made the vampire smile. Wide predatory, and I let myself see they were a pretty woman, not my type but stunning in her own way. In a blink I was held against a wall, head sharply pulled to one side. Alien breath on my throat, my heart was hammering for attention. In the right setting those fangs wouldn’t have hurt as much, or rather from the right vampire I admitted to myself. Like twin daggers and without any finesse she bit down, raggedly like an animal and glugged. Then it all went fuzzy. I was going to blackout and miss my death, always unfashionably late. Like someone had flicked my switch. As the world folded away and I sunk to the cold floor, I heard a curdling scream. Points for it not being from me. A smirk possibly on my face. “My Devils gonna get ya!” I voiced in my mind as my throat was amess. It hurt to swallow. Meaty sounds and gurgling. The last thing I felt was being picked up, familiar smell wafting around me. Velvet on my skin. A kiss to my forehead. “Sleep Daniel.” Armand said. Bundled into a waiting car. So like a good minion I did.

I awoke in a plush bed, our bed in the villa - Night Island. My hand automatically going to my throat. A padded bandage swathed it. My neck hurt - the bitch had bruised me. From hand and bite wound. I ached, but not as much as I should have. Blood still tasted on my mouth. I suddenly appreciated how careful, and gentle my lover was with fragile lil old me. She’d been younger, right… Next to me was a video tape, and in a jar two gleaming fangs. A cough so as not to startle me. “Barely 150yrs”, The bed shifting as my devil sat next to me. “I filmed her punishment. Though she’s dust now across two states.” You looked strained, fraught - the eyes gave it away. You pulled the bandage back inspecting the wound. A tingle so familiar as you dripped and rubbed your blood into it. The bruises easing into nothing. I could feel the tissue and flesh knitting back together. Then in a rare show of fragility you curled up against me, ear against my chest. I stroked your hair. “She was playing out of her league huh.” You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to, because she could have killed me. We both knew that. “Perhaps I’ll leave the home video till sometime, never. The teeth are momento enough.” Flicking to a film and sitting in companionable silence.


End file.
